


But I'd Have to Charge

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Drunk Sex, Humor, Multi, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does Sam do to women?  He would teach you, but he'd have to charge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I'd Have to Charge

The tequila was plentiful that night. That was Sam’s only excuse for the event that transpired that evening. They had been celebrating, clubbing, drinking, relieved after an extremely long night gig had resulted in a living client and a fat reward. Even Michael was downing shooters like a champ, and Fiona dragged him out on the floor to stiffly rumba. Somehow, they ended up on the floor of Michael’s loft, curled in a pile, laughing at something he didn’t understand or remember. Michael was lounging on his chair, slumped, smirking at them both. Everything that happened in the next couple of hours was Fiona’s fault. That’s what he’d always maintain.

“So Sam,” Fiona said, drunkenly lurching in his direction, “what DO you do to those women?”

The question only brought Sam up short for a minute. “You don’t want to know.”

“Ohhh,” she smiled, her glossy lips glimmering in the bedroom light. “But I do, Sam.”

“You…you can’t ask him that, Fi…” Michael slurred, resting his head against the back of the couch. “You’ll ruin his mystique.”

“Oh, come off it.” She closed her eyes and sat back, resembling someone in deep meditation. “Touch me, Sam.”

He leered at her and reached across the space between them put his hand on her breast, groping it. Fiona stiffened and gasped, and Sam was certain that the night was going to end with her punching him right in the face. Instead, her posture started to melt into his touch, and she let out a moan. Her words didn’t betray her, though.

“That,” she declared gruffly, “isn’t close to Cadillac worthy. It wouldn’t even merit a Volvo in bloody Dublin.”

Sam glanced sideways at Michael, who only gave him a delirious grin back. Shrugging, Sam turned back to Fiona and swept her into his lap, giving her an impassioned, sloppy kiss. She threw herself into the embrace, moaning into his mouth, her tongue twisting to wrap around his, darting back and forth so quickly Sam couldn’t take control. He felt himself harden as she ground her ass into his lap, winding her leg around his waist. Sam opened an eye and glanced at Michael, who watched them with bleary interest. How the hell was he getting away with this? It was starting to creep him out – Michael was usually so territorial when it came to Fiona, and now he was sitting there watching him make out with his girlfriend.

He dug into the Sam Axe Arsenal of Seduction and yanked Michael over the back of the chair with his free hand; his best friend landed in a heap right beside him.

“Hey Mike,” he chirped, as Fiona tried to yank him back into the kiss. He dodged it, locking his lips onto Michael’s softer ones. Mike stiffened into the touch, but Sam was dogged in his need to make his friend crack. If he was going to do the unthinkable and fuck Fiona, he wanted an accomplice – besides, Michael looked so damn good in that suit, even drunk off his ass, and no, Sam wasn’t about to question why he found his best friend so sexy at the moment, only that he wanted him out of the suit. He didn’t even pause to question his thoughts and grabbed Michael by the back of his head and pinned him down, until his tongue started tentatively stroking back at Sam’s. Michael surprised him; he had always assumed Sam opened one eye to gage Fiona’s reaction, which changed from outraged to intrigued to vaguely aroused. Michael slung an ill-aimed arm around Sam’s neck, and Sam felt a corresponding squeeze from Fiona’s thighs. Michael stopped kissing Sam with a groan, and buried his face against his neck.

Then Fiona grabbed Sam by the back of the head and yanked his hair with all of her might. Sam grabbed her by the wrist and met her mad gaze. “My turn,” she said, and plunged her tongue into Sam’s gasping mouth. He lost his grip on Michael as he tumbled all three of them forwards to the floor.

Sam concentrated on Fiona’s wild kiss, getting his left hand down between their bodies and yanking her dress up. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and her cunt glistened, parting slightly as she lay back for a moment. Sam was shoved away from her mouth as she and Michael lunged for one another, At that point he became aware of Michael’s groping fingers undoing the buttons holding his fly – Sam reached blindly through the gap between Fi’s torso and Michaels’ and started pulling and unsnapping at whatever he could reach. He had Michael’s shirt partially undone and his fly unzipped before he groped his way up Michael’s body and yanked the two of them apart, slamming his lips down on Michael’s.

Sam’s hands went crazy, squeezing the unyielding landscape of flesh before him. Groping Michael Westen was like stroking a wall of solid rock – no softness, and no curves or angles. He’d been with a number of men in his time, but none of them were his best friend.

“Are you cool with this?” he asked Michael.

Michael breathlessly nodded his head, but before He heard material rending and whirled around to face Fiona.

“How do you open these ugly things?” Fi panted, ripping at the buttons.

“Woah, no tearing – these’re expensive.” Sam got to unbuttoning himself while Fiona hauled her dress up and off – she looked a little ridiculous with her shoes dangling from her feet, otherwise totally nude and wearing a lioness’ glare.

“Get those off, now, both of you.”

Mike frowned at Sam. “Ish she the boss of us?”

Sam shrugged. “Looks like it, pal.”

“I…think I wanna be on top.” Michael said, dragging himself to his feet. He was normally so controlled that seeing him sloppy drunk turned out to be disturbing to both

Sam shot a worried look at Fiona, and intervened quickly. “Mikey. Wake up.”

Michael frowned, shook his head; apparently hadn’t been aware of how drunk he had been. “You’re right. Right. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this far gone.”

Sam saw reluctance enter his expression and immediately stepped in to take charge. He rubbed his shoulders, feeling the tensile muscle underneath the unbuttoned shirt. “Relax,” he encouraged, kissing Michael’s neck. “Think about what I can do for you. Both of you,” he said, giving Fiona a serious look (one that, in fact, made her roll her eyes and thud down beside them ungracefully, still in her cork wedges). Sam worked open the buttons of his shirt and tugged at the tails of Michael’s with his free hand, lips brushing and teasing against Michael’s while his fingers slipped lightly against warm flesh. His best friend moaned and shifted, moving toward Sam’s mouth, suddenly eager for the kiss. Fiona – no natural at paying witness to anything – ran her hand up Michael’s leg, toward his fly.

Sam knew when she made contact by the sudden hiss of Michael’s breath and the zing of metal coming unpinned; Michael shrugged out of his shirt and hauled his teeshirt over his head while Sam and Fiona met at his belt, struggling to find harmony as they worked the tongue of leather through its metal cinch. Sam felt it give under Fiona’s determination and saved his fingers the hassle – while she was distracted, he unzipped Michael’s fly and reached inside, tugging Michael’s half-hard cock free of boxers and pants and stroking it. His friend’s disheveled appearance was such a contrast to his usual sense of order that Sam wanted to rough up his hair, bruise his lips, loosen his sense of order.

Sam applied practical logic to touching Michael – he replicated on his best friend whatever felt best to him. That meant a lot of attention paid to the head of his cock, specifically the ridge right below the head, and some extra strokes that brushed his balls. The warm, firm length of Michael’s cock –paler and more deeply-veined than Sam’s own – intrigued Sam, aroused him too. Fiona broke his rhythm by reaching over and yanking both his and Michael’s teeshirts off with a quick tug.

The two men stared at her in shock, but Fi smirked back at them, holding the ripped shirts aloft. “Pants off, boys,” she said, lying back and spreading her legs.

Sam was quicker than Michael in getting his sneakers, pants and shredded teeshirt off, but his boxers hit the floor to seconds after Michael’s did. Turning toward Fiona, both sized up the redhead before them with matching smirks. Her eyes were heated, and just a little bit amused – her legs parted wider, and the pink gleam of her flesh in the light sent a charge of passion straight to Sam’s balls.

“I’m taking care of both of you,” Sam reminded him, getting down on his hands and knees between Fi’s legs. Michael sat beside them both on the chilled floor. “Get behind Fi, hold her up,” Sam requested, “play with her tits and I’ll make you come.”

“Got it,” Michael agreed. The booze fog had cleared from his eyes, replaced by a look of lust.

“Hmm. And you haven’t even taken me out to dinner,” she remarked. But she leaned into Michael’s chest, craning her neck for a kiss – as their tongues met, Michael’s hands explored Fi’s collarbone and her breasts. Sam noticed that Michael was rubbing them roughly, twisting the nipples in a way that made Fiona pant into his mouth.

“I’ll pay for breakfast at Carlito’s tomorrow,” Sam said, busying himself, rubbing Fiona’s legs, caressing her inner thighs with his palms. He lowered his head and started kissing his way southward.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Michael declared between kisses. Fi let out a humming laugh, arching her chest again, indicating that she wanted his mouth on her nipples.

Sam and Michael lowered their heads at the same time, both applying teeth and tongue to her most obvious centers of pleasure. Fiona made a sound that resembled a choked purr, her nails digging into Michael’s side.

He lost track of how they touched each other, preferring to give Fiona the best head she’d ever experienced. That involved a lot of build-up with his tongue, nipping and kissing her tanned thighs before stroking the exterior of her sex with his tongue. Gently parting her with his index finger and thumb, Sam’s tongue slid rhythmically into and out of the heat of her entrance before withdrawing to circle it. It was a technique that had worked on hundreds of women and Fiona was no exception. She was a writher and a scratcher and he had to pin her down with his right arm to stop her from marking him up.

Fiona was trapped in purgatory between their mouths, her torso arching ineffectually against the dueling caresses. When Sam extended his left hand and ran it up Michael’s thighs, the younger man instinctively parted them, sitting back and letting Sam run his hand up and down his aching cock.

Sam hadn’t double-teamed two people in years, and he wasn’t as flexible as he had been in his twenties, so when his neck creaked and someone kneed his war wound he gasped and groaned in turn; it was fun to turn on two attractive, sensual people, never mind that they were both beautiful and that he loved them both. It gave Sam all the motivation to keep going. He solved the puzzle that was his attraction with practicality; three fingers of his right hand thrusting within Fiona, his left going up and down Michael’s cock, his tongue running circles around her clit. When Fi got too close, he backed off and lurched toward Michael, taking the tip of his cock and paying worship to it with a quick suck and lick. But paying them equal attention cost him his own endurance; the scent and taste of them together threatened to make him unload on the floor instead of somewhere far warmer, but he let his cock leap and throb as he let his experience guide him along, single-minded, single goaled. He understood the language of tense thighs and grasping fingers better than most men; he knew he was bringing them both closer to the point of no return. He glanced up to see them kissing each other, one of Michael’s hands squeezing Fiona’s right breast, the other extended to hold Sam’s shoulder. Fiona’s nails dig into Sam’s shoulder as he dragged her to the panting, ragged-edged tip of an orgasm twice. She rewarded him with a long, angry red scratch along his neck that Sam wouldn’t notice for hours yet.

 

“Now,” Sam declared, “the key to giving great head is to focus on every areas of the snatch…”

“Is he serious?” Fiona gasped.

“You said you wanted to learn,” Michael pointed out.

“I want to come,” she growled.

“Patience, young student,” Sam requested, and lowered his head.

 

The third time he tried to leave off the stimulation, Fiona bucked up hard into his mouth. He’d won, knew it, and she gave a desperate little moan as her hand came to press upon his head came with the flavor of victory. The pressure was, in turn quickly relieved.

“Don’t, Fi. Let Sam go.”

That was the last thing Sam heard before he started tonguing her clit in earnest. It took him a minute before those thighs of hers clamped his right arm and ear and she made a leonine sound of desire, her head falling back as she cried out. Her pulsations were the throb of an ocean wave around his fingers. Sam basked in his triumph as he kissed his way up her body, Michael’s hard dick still in his fist.

“Any questions for the teacher?” he smirked, wiping his lower lip

“The devil take you, Sam Axe,” Fiona growled, lurching over and tackling him with a forward rush that would’ve made giving Sam a quick, biting kiss. She didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself in his mouth and swept her tongue around wildly – she refused to submit to Sam’s steady pressure and wrapped his tongue up, knocking his hand away from Michael’s dick and grabbing Sam’s with her free hand.

“I think you’d rather do the taking, red,” he declared, the words choking off at her squeeze. Even though he knew it would be dangerous, he wanted to fuck her – and she didn’t bother with the nicety of blowing him before straddling his hips.

Sam made a few leaps of logic to accept what happened next; if Fi was fine with fucking him bareback then she had to be on the pill, and if Michael didn’t protest that he wouldn’t mind Sam kissing him, and if that kiss lasted so long that Michael took Sam by the back of his head and sucked Sam’s tongue into his mouth, then he might be willing to let him really suck his cock.

“C’mon. Fuck my face,” Sam encouraged his best friend, coming off the kiss and grabbing Fiona by her hip. She was already using Sam’s cock, driving herself up and down, and it felt great but he wanted more, wanted to prove his own superiority. Every little move Fi made sent a thrill straight through Sam; as did the look in Michael’s eyes as he straddled Sam’s chest.

They never discussed it; they simply did; Sam tilted his head to an uncomfortable angle to get Michael’s dick down his throat and moved his hips in a steady cadence while Fiona Clung to Michael’s neck and Michael Clung to Sam’s forearms. Sam’s mind filled with half-coherent thoughts of wet heat and suction; he wrapped his mouth around Michael’s cock and worked it deep and hard, hollowing his cheeks and capping his teeth to keep from biting down on him. Then his thoughts whirled away and there was only the well-oiled mechanics of their union. He was dimly aware of Fiona’s orgasm overtaking her two minutes before Sam cursed against Michael’s flesh and bucked upward, coming inside of Fi in several hard throbbing caresses. He barely had enough presence of mind to swallow when Michael followed them into orgasm and his spicy-salty come coated Sam’s tongue.

No one moved for a minute. Then Michael, in an easy, graceful motion, slipped off of Sam’s chest. Fiona took that as a cue to slump forward and rest on Sam’s chest.

“Well,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow. Her shoes made a clattering sound as they hit the floor again. “How fascinating.”

Michael leaned into Sam’s shoulder, as he had a hundred times on the battlefield. “Think you could teach us anything else?”

Sam closed his eyes, smirking. “Sure. But next time I might have to charge.”


End file.
